


The Raptor's Grip - Lantern Slides

by ccauchemar



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Clandestine, F/F, Ficlets, Slipstream - Freeform, Summer, Vignettes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-19 22:15:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20217142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ccauchemar/pseuds/ccauchemar
Summary: "...Sometimes it becomes possible for an author to revisit a story and play with it, not to adapt it into another medium [...] But simply to play. And in every narrative there are gaps: places where, although things happened and the characters spoke and acted and lived their lives, the story says nothing about them. It was fun to visit a few of these gaps and speculate a little on what I might see there."-Philip Pullman





	1. Downtime

**Author's Note:**

> i've been winding myself into a tight little ball, and i need to write some relaxing things to destress. i have to be strict with the main work or i'll never get to the end, but it _is_ exhausting, and there's so much material to play with and things to say that in the spirit of mr pullman i decided to make a place to put them separately.
> 
> in the distant future if i find places for them, i'll repurpose them, but until then, have some glimpses behind the curtain.

Deirdre climbed in the hammock first, of course, citing a catnap. She’d been dozing, eyelids heavy with summer warmth, before Moira joined her. The hammock had swung, and Deirdre had grumbled, but Moira placated her with a kiss, and settled on top.

A cool ocean breeze whispers through the garden, twiddling the leaves of paperbark trees. Cicadas and whipbirds offer sweet sounds to the soft afternoon. Moira rests her ear over her partner’s heart. Deirdre’s hand lazily combs Moira’s hair. Shadows dapple them both. 

“I needed this,” Deirdre murmurs. Moira hums, soft. She raises a hand to curl around Deirdre’s shoulder. Deirdre presses a kiss to Moira’s crown.

Together, alone, they doze.


	2. Noncommittal

It’s not romantic, they agreed. Gabriel couldn’t handle another relationship under such risky circumstances. Dominic was fine with this, of course; he wasn’t interested in another secret to hide.

Still, they met in the dead of night, cloaks but no daggers, roving hands over each other's skin, the remnants of Moira’s handiwork flickering like embers and emeralds in the dark.


	3. Chapter 3

Lyra, perched on the nose of the Slipstream, missing Pan, feeling like she’s been here before, and feeling like she’s  _ not  _ supposed to be here, but still - even with Lena’s help - being unable to articulate why.


End file.
